


Escalation

by DawnHawkes



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:14:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24886675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnHawkes/pseuds/DawnHawkes
Summary: Trigger Warnings: Animal Injury, Animal Death, Gore, ViolenceThis story is related to an ongoing roleplaying scenario.





	Escalation

The severity of the dreams was something she had been keeping a secret. At first, it had merely been the sounds of voices in the darkness. Whispers of some far off voice that she couldn't recognize. Sometimes in a language she could understand, other times in what was little more than gibberish to her. There was a presence with the voice, a feeling of general unease. Whenever she closed her eyes, she wasn't safe. This went on for days without relief.  
  
In an effort to ease the restlessness, she took to drinking tea, something to soothe her nerves and bring sleep easier. The dreams began to twist again. The voices remained, but now whatever it was chased her. Like a beast in the dark, always nipping at her heels. She woke in a cold sweat, tangled in the blankets each night, and the rest of the evening would be sleepless.

Gradually over the month, the voice and the presence developed a shape. A figure in a cape rushed to catch up with her, reaching out to tear at her clothes with long nails dripped with something the woman presumed to be blood. She tried to scream but found she had no way. Three nights of this before she broke, sitting sobbing upright in bed, shaking with the fear.  
  
Every time the dreams changed, they became more real. The sensation of earth beneath bare feet. The swish of her nightdress around her legs as she ran. The burning of the air in her lungs as she tried so hard to get away. Her heart beating a tempo in her ears that only added to the intensity of it all.  
  
Once more, the dreams went through a distorted metamorphosis. The figure caught her. They tumbled to the ground and struggled, each attempting to gain the upper hand on the other. When she managed to place her weight atop the mysterious stranger, she reached for the hood of the cloak which hid their face. She would always wake just before the identity was revealed.

Had it only stopped there. The Elezen woman switched having a gulp of brandy before bed when no one was looking. The tea had ceased to calm her nerves and allow her to sleep. Rest took effort, she would often lay in bed for hours praying for a dreamless night. They did not come.

Everything seemed to be escalating. Her mood was in a constant state of flux, though whether that was due to the distance from the trinket or the lack of sleep was hard for her to tell. Ellemeare tried to tell herself she would be fine. It would all pass and things would get better.  
  
Until that night.  
  


  
It was dark. Like always, the air smelled of damp earth and rotting vegetation. There was a far off sound of water running, though as she walked she could not locate the source of the noise. Then it began, at first sounding like a rustling of leaves. The gravelly voice from her nightmares. Urging her to kill. To harm herself. To harm others.  
  
_Kill. Burn. Death. Kill. You know you want to kill. You know you want them all to die. I can feel it in your heart. I know what you want. What you truly want._

Elle covered her ears with her hands, but it was no use. The voices were inside her head. They always were. No running could allow her to escape them. No sound would deafen them.  
  
“Leave me alone! Go away! I'm not listening to you!”  
  
The urging continued. Hushed tones in a voice that sounded as if it came from a throat that had not drank water in ages. It rasped.  
  
She heard it first. The sound of footsteps in the distance. Not again, she thought. Elle's breathing immediately heightened as she turned this way and that. Which direction were they coming from? Who were they? What did they want from her?  
  
_You know what I want. I want what you want. Kill. Burn. You know you want to kill. They deserve it. They all deserve it._  
  
“Shut up! You don't know anything!” This is only a dream. Only a dream she tried to remind herself. The footsteps grew closer, and when she could make out the outline of the cloaked figure in the darkness, she turned on her heel and tried to flee.  
  
Slipping in the leaves, she scrambled to her feet and ran. Don't look behind you, she told herself. That's how they've caught you the last time. They'll be right behind you. Don't look.  
  
_I'm right here... Ellemeare._  
  
The voice sing-songed at her, it's voice reflecting an evil chipper sound that made her blood run cold. She started to sob as she rushed this way and that, slamming into things occasionally that felt like trees, trying her hardest not to look.  
  
_I'm right behiiind youuuu._  
  
“Leave me alone! You can't make me do anything! You're just a dream! A nightmare! Go away!”  
  
_I can make you do whatever I want, Ellemeare. And you can't stop me._  
  
The hand of the figure clutched at the back of her night dress, jerking her backward off of her feet. She slammed into the ground and the wind was temporarily knocked out of her. The cloaked attacker raised a blade which gleamed in what little light there was. Elle raised her hands to defend against the weapon.  
  
“No! You can't!”  
  
The blade bit into her skin, blood seeped and ran down her forearms. She could feel it. Smell the metallic scent of it in the air. How could it be? How could she feel this? Why was everything so real? The desire to live rose within her to override her fear, and she reached for the blade, fighting it free and tossing it somewhere into the dead leaves that surrounded them. Struggling, she brought her knee up to the attacker's stomach and sent them tumbling.  
  
_You know you want to kill, Ellemeare. It's easy. I can show you. I can show you how easy it is._  
  
“SHUT UP!” Ellemeare launched herself on top of the figure. This time, her hands went instinctively around the figure's neck. She squeezed with all her might, screaming into the cloaked face. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! LEAVE ME ALONE! LEAVE ME ALONE!” Continuing to apply as much of her strength as she could, Elle shook the figure as she put more and more pressure on the neck. Until the figure stopped resisting and grew slack beneath her. Trembling in fear, she reached back and yanked back the hood. Her stomach dropped as she looked down at the face of the one she loved most. His eyes blank, his lips blue. The hand shaped bruises still prominent on the skin of his neck.  
  
Aelden.  
  
  
  
“AELDEN!!!” Ellemeare jolted awake, sobbing. For the moment, she didn't register where she was, merely rocked herself back and forth where she sat, tears streaming down her face. It was the pain in her forearms and the cold beneath her that brought her to reality. She was on the cold stone floor of her shop in Ishgard. Ellemeare looked at her skin in confusion for a moment, wondering why her forearms were covered in claw marks. Looking at her hands, they trembled as she viewed the blood and stranger still the bits of white fluff that clung to the blood.  
  
“Wh...”  
  
It was only when Ellemeare looked down that she realized the source of the blood, the claw marks, and the white fluff that stuck to her fingers. A strangled sob escaped her as Elle's shoulders shook with tears born of a combination of sorrow and fear. The sobs turned into screams that would only be on deaf ears for the thickness of the stone around her. Laying before her, smeared with blood, was the dead body of a large white barn owl. Ellemeare's favored pet, Aspen.  
  
“Oh Aspen... oh baby... I'm so sorry...” Ellemeare's voice was thick with emotion, reaching to pick the body up and cradle it in her arms. The woman only had enough strength to push her linkpearl and utter a few words.  
  
“Aelden. I need you.”  
  
No more words were spoken. She was far too busy crying for the loss. The voice had been right. It had made her kill. And because of it, until the situation with the trinket was resolved, she doubted she would ever wish to sleep again.


End file.
